I’m grateful that today is Saturday. After last night, I’m not entirely sure I can gather up the strength to go to school. I absolutely hate missing school and falling behind in my classes. I’ve always strived to do my very best in my studies. I’m sure it’s because of all the pressure my parents have put on me ever since I was a kid. They constantly compared me to my sister, telling me that I need to strive to be like her, possibly even better. The line between what my parents have wanted and what I want for myself has kind of been blurred throughout the years.

I’m up before Blaine and for a moment, I feel dazed and lost. I’m not in my own bed and I can’t remember why. It only takes me a second to remember the events of last night. My eyes sting and I’m not sure if it’s from all the crying I did last night or because I’m still incredibly drained from its events. Slowly, I sit up, rubbing at my eyes and for a moment, I’m mortified that Blaine is going to see me in this state. Skin blotchy, eyes stained red, hair a mess. And then I remember that last night, Blaine saw me at my worst. I was completely vulnerable and totally worn down by my father’s cruel words and my mother’s lack to stand up for her child.

I carefully slip out of bed thankful that Blaine is a fairly heavy sleeper. At least, that’s what it seems like at first because halfway to the bathroom, I hear the bed sheets rustle and I hear Blaine’s voice incredibly rough and heavy with sleep. My heart skips a beat at the sound.

“You alright?” he mutters sleepily. I stop dead in my tracks and look back at him. I nod. “Yeah,” I mumble softly. “Yeah, I’m ok.” I offer a smile, though it’s half hearted.

Honestly, I feel like shit. Any other day I would have been thrilled to wake up in Blaine’s bed. But today, I wish I was at home in my own room in a familiar environment. In a place that I know. I’m not stupid, though. I know my room isn’t a safe haven because it isn’t really my room anymore. I feel like I’ve lost everything in one night.

I watch as Blaine returns the smile, eyes soft and inviting. My heart warms at the sight.

I’ve lost almost everything in one night.

----

I end up spending the entire weekend with Blaine and when it’s time to go back to school on Monday, I almost feel like crying. I know it sounds incredibly ridiculous, but it reminds me of the first day of daycare. You’ve spend the first five years of your life attached to your mother and suddenly you’re thrown into this unfamiliar place where everything seems a lot bigger and scarier. That’s kind of how I feel Monday morning as I’m sitting in Blaine’s car, gathering my bag and shoving my notebook into it. From beside me, I can feel Blaine watching in silence. I can practically taste the concern that’s hanging in the air. Once I snap my bag shut I raise my eyes to look at him, brushing away a strand of hair that manages to fall out of place.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be alright?” he asks softly. He’s noticed how much I’ve been keeping to myself this entire weekend and he knows how affected I am by it all.

“Yeah,” I breath as I sling the strap over my shoulder and reach for the door handle. Before I can open the door, I feel Blaine’s hand cover mine. I pause, turning my head to look back at him.

“Just let me know if you need anything,” he offers, eyes earnest.

Butterflies are fluttering around inside my stomach as I swallow hard and I barely nod. “Of course,” I mutter as he releases my hand, but not without giving it a gentle squeeze. I smile for the first time that morning as I say, “Bye, Blaine.”

I hear Blaine call out a soft, “Bye,” behind me before I close the door and I’m walking straight towards the doors that will lead me into my hellish day at McKinley.

The day drags on like I expect it to. By second period I find myself sneaking my phone out of my pocket to send Blaine a text message. He responds almost immediately and I spend the rest of the day exchanging text messages with him. It makes me feel a little better, even when Karofsky shoves me into a set of lockers while wishing me a happy Monday. I stay in place, tightly gripping my phone as I watch him exchange high fives with Azimio and disappear into the crowd of students. I see Quinn watching me. Her cheerios uniform is gone and she's looking at me from the doorway of a classroom. Our eyes meet and we hold eachother's gaze for a few seconds before a group of students cross our line of vision.

In those few moments I see something that I've never seen from Quinn...a sense of compassion. Love. Caring.

I decide that I don't want to tell anyone about my parents kicking me out of the house. I'm embarrassed, ashamed almost. I don't even tell Mercedes. For that reason I'm shocked when I find myself stopping Quinn after glee rehearsal. The rest of the members step and dodge their way around us and head out the door. She turns around completely to look at me and I notice that she's clutching her books close to her stomach. It's something that I realize she's been doing recently. Finn is standing beside her and I catch his eye and he looks down at me before muttering. "I'll meet you at my car?" to which Quinn nods. I wait until the door has slammed shut behind him to speak.

"Have you talked to your dad about your pregnancy?" I'm not going to beat around the bush. She knows that I know and there’s no sense hiding it.

Quinn nods and actually smiles. I return the gesture. It's nice to know that at least one of us has had a positive outcome this winter break.

"Thank you, Kurt," she says, voice soft.

My eyebrows pull together as I quietly ask, "For what?"

She shakes her head and shrugs. "Just for listening. I really needed someone else besides Puck to talk to. I..." she trails off before sighing softly. "Thank you," she says again.

I suddenly have the urge to tell her everything just like she told me three weeks ago. I’m not entirely sure why. But I almost feel like I owe it to her. She confided in me so I want to do the same. Just because she's here. Just because I feel like someone in this goddamn school needs to know about me and what I've been through. That not only have I been tormented at school, but at home as well.

"My parents kicked me out," I say suddenly before I can stop myself.

Quinn stares at me for a moment before her eyebrows pull together. "What?" she asks looking a little confused.

"...I came out to them over break and...and my dad just told me to leave the house." It hurts so much to talk about it and I didn't realize how difficult this would be. I realize that eventually I'm going to have to do this again multiple times when people start to notice that my parents aren't showing up to our competitions and performances. When they realize that my outfits are repeating because more than half of my wardrobe is no longer in my possession.

"Do you need a place to stay?" she asks suddenly, reaching out to touch my arm. Her hand is so incredibly warm and inviting and I almost say yes. Instead though, I remain silent, my throat tight and I don't want to speak because I'm afraid I might sob out pathetically. I feel so exposed and weak right now and I am inwardly kicking myself for even telling her this in the first place. The way she’s looking at me, however, suddenly calms me and I briefly wonder if it's that’s her maternal instinct kicking in. Maybe it's a side of Quinn I never realized existed. Possibly both.

"I'm staying with Blaine right now, but his parents don’t know. They're out of town on a business trip." Honestly, I’m not sure if moving in to Blaine’s house should even be an option. Things with his dad are…weird and I don’t want to be the one to put more strain on that relationship. Quinn’s offer is like some heaven sent opportunity.

“I’m sure my dad won’t mind you staying with us,” she says with a gentle smile as she pulls her hand back to grip her notebook.

“I don’t think…” I trail off when Quinn shakes her head.

“Stop,” she says softly. “I’ll talk to him tonight.” And then she reaches out to take my phone into her hands and unlocks it. My eyebrows pull together and in a few seconds she’s placing the phone back into my hand. I’m surprised my parents haven’t cut off my phone yet. It’s probably because the bill isn’t due until next month. Every time I attempt to make a call or send a text message I can only hope that it will go through.

“I added my number to your contacts,” she informs me. “Call me tonight after eight.”

All I can do is stare at her a little dumbly. I can hardly believe the girl standing in front of me. Part of me wonders if this has anything to do with her pregnancy. I wonder if it’s changed her or maybe I just never gave this girl a chance. We never really spoke because we didn’t have anything to really talk about. She never went out of her way to make my life miserable like most of the other kids. She never really made a comment about my sexuality either. For a moment, I wonder why I hadn’t given myself more of a chance to get to know Quinn a little better.

“Thank you so much. I…I don’t know what to…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” she says with a little shake of the head. Quinn then reaches out to rub my arm soothingly. “Don’t forget to call me tonight.” And then she’s turning and walking out of the room.

People like her give me hope for the world. People like her remind me that there are individuals who will intentionally hurt and judge you but there are others who are the opposite. They are people who will go out of their way to make you feel safe and wanted. Make you feel like you have some kind of purpose in life. Like you’re not a mistake, a product of bad parenting, a disappointment.

----

That night I find myself staring at my phone. I’m sitting at the dining room table at Blaine’s house and my cell phone is lying on the table screaming at me to call Quinn. It’s nine o’clock and part of me wonders if she’s doing the same. I wonder if she’s keeping an eye on her phone waiting for me to call her back. I wonder if Burt will allow me to move in with them for a little while. I never really considered Quinn a close friend. Actually, we were more like acquaintances until that afternoon I found out she was pregnant. I see myself moving in with Rachel before I do Quinn. It’s strange. But Quinn did offer and I shouldn’t turn it down. It’s not like I have many options right now, anyway.

With a defeated sigh I snatch my phone up and start going through my contacts until I find Quinn’s name. I stare at it for a few seconds before sucking it up and pressing the call button and bringing the phone to my ear. I half expect it to go to voicemail but to my surprise, she answers. I can practically hear the smile in her voice as we speak and she tells me that her father would be more than happy to offer me a place to stay. She explains that they have an extra bedroom with more than enough space. She also tells me that I am more than welcome to stay as long as I need to.

A crazy side of me wonders if my father will come around. I wonder if I will wake up to a phone call from him at three in the morning. I wonder if he’ll apologize and ask me to come home. But then I remember that my life isn’t a movie. Life doesn’t always have happy endings. Things happen; bad things. I never thought I would find myself in this position. I used to have everything. Endless amounts of designer clothes, a beautiful home, a huge room, an expensive car. And with just those two words: “I’m gay.” I lost it all. I lost everything I cherished and loved just because I like boys. Just because I would rather kiss Blaine than all those girls my father has tried setting me up with in a desperate attempt to prove what he feared most: that his little boy turned out to be gay.

I try not to let my mind linger on ridiculous things like my father calling me to apologize because he isn’t going to do it. The way he looked at me that night…That man wasn’t my father. He was a stranger. And that stranger was not going to take Kurt Fabray back into his home.

Blaine is back home late that evening because of Warbler practice. I spend the night awkwardly wandering the house until I finally settle in Blaine’s bed to watch TV. His bed is huge and comfortable and it smells so much like him. Like his cologne. It’s a scent that I’ve grown to love. I find comfort in this scent and it makes me feel more at home than either of my parents ever have. There’s so much love here. So much love coming from Blaine as he enters his room and smiles at me, dropping his school bag on his desk. My eyes follow him as he shrugs off his blazer and loosens his tie. I watch as he pulls the tie over his head and hangs it over the back of his desk chair along with his blazer.

“Did you talk to Quinn?” Blaine asks as he undoes the first button of his white dress shirt. My eyes linger on his hand for a moment before I look up at his face and nod.

“Yeah,” I say softly. “Her dad says I’m welcome to stay.”

Blaine smiles and nods. Though, I can see a hint of sadness in his eyes. I can tell that he wants me to move in with him. Because I’ve seen that protective side of Blaine. The side that tends to slip whenever we talk about my dad. I’ve seen the anger flashing briefly in his eyes. I know that if it was up to him, I would just move in with him. But it isn’t. We’re just a couple of high school boys and we don’t make the rules. We go by what our parents tell us and both Blaine and I know that his dad would not welcome me with open arms. He doesn’t hate me or dislike me. He just has a strange relationship with Blaine from what I have gathered. And despite the fact that I’ve been kicked out of my house, I don’t want to be another strain on Blaine and Mr. Anderson’s relationship. I’m not sure how kindly he would take to his gay son’s equally gay friend living with him.

So, I try to make the most out of all this time I have with Blaine. I savor it and keep it tucked away in my heart.

Blaine’s parents are supposed to be back on Sunday and it’s already Thursday. I have him for the weekend and I’m so incredibly grateful for that. My eyes linger on him for a few more seconds until I decide that I’m probably staring and finally return my gaze to the TV. I’m watching Project Runway. Usually, I’m not one for reality television shows but the designs on this show are phenomenal in so incredibly inspiring. That, and I love Tim Gun.

Blaine tells me he’s going to take a quick shower and a give him a small nod as I lay down on my stomach, chin resting over my folded hands. Even though the theme for the episode is intriguing, I find myself thinking about Blaine and everything we’ve been through in the short time that we’ve known each other. I think about the way he smiles at me and the way he touches my hand. The way he sometimes sits a little too close. Closer than any boy has ever sat. Our knees touch and our arms brush occasionally. Last night I woke up to him snuggled close to me and I nearly lost it. I was blushing wildly and my heart was hammering at my chest. Once I had gotten over the initial shock, I closed my eyes and pulled myself a little closer to Blaine, wishing I could stay like that forever.

I constantly find myself wondering how Blaine feels about me. If he sees me as just a friend or if he wants more. It’s all so unclear and it’s so very hard to tell because he’s the only other gay male (besides Karofsky) that I have ever met. I’m not sure if this is normal behavior; if gay boys are more touchy. Or maybe it’s just Blaine. I’m not entirely sure.

Eventually, my attention slips back to the TV and Blaine steps out of the bathroom during the judging in the episode.

“Oh man, I love this show,” I hear him say from across the room.

I smile. “I’m still waiting for a McQueen inspired episode.” I turn my head to look at Blaine who’s hair is still wet from the shower. It’s incredibly curly and so very beautiful. My smile widens when I look at him and he laughs almost nervously as he tosses the towel in his hand across the room and into the hamper. He’s wearing a t-shirt and sweat pants and I never, ever realized someone could look so good in something like that.

I move over a little, giving Blaine space to sit beside me as we fall into silence and watch the last few minutes of the episode. Once it’s over, I sit up, stretching my back a little before looking over at Blaine who’s eyes are still on the TV. My eyes flicker up to his hair as I speak. “Why do you always keep your hair gelled?” I find myself asking because, really, it’s something that I’ve wondered about for a while now.

Blaine shrugs as he looks at me. “We’re supposed to be ‘well-groomed’,” he raises his fingers making air-quotes, “at Dalton and my hair can get pretty messy if I don’t put anything in it. After transferring, I just kind of got into the habit of gelling it all the time.”

Before I can stop myself, I’m raising my hand, fingers lightly touching his dark hair. My eyes find Blaine’s who’s staring back at me with a little smile. I feel myself blush as I slip my fingers into his damp hair and it’s as soft as it looks. “Well, I think it looks better when it isn’t gelled down,” I offer quietly as he gently leans into my hand. After a moment, I make a move to withdraw my hand but Blaine is suddenly reaching up to stop me.

“That feels really nice.” His voice is barely above a whisper and I laugh softly, a nervous little gesture. His fingers are warm against my skin and I just want to kiss him now. I want to pull him close and just kiss him. But I don’t because I’m afraid. I’m too nervous.

Instead I say, “I’m not your personal scalp massage therapist.”

Blaine laughs as his hand falls to his lap. “You can be,” he throws back and my heart flutters as I briefly wonder if this is what actual flirting feels like. Not that one-sided crap I did with Finn last year.

“I think I’ll pass,” I say with an arch of the brow and a smile. And just like that, I retrieve my hand successfully. At that moment, I wish Blaine’s hand would have been there to stop me again.